


You Better Hold on Tight

by let_it_out



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Clint Barton, Bottom Phil Coulson, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, Fisting, Kissing, Love Bites, M/M, Marking, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/let_it_out/pseuds/let_it_out
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil wants to try something new, and Clint's all for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Better Hold on Tight

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure I started writing this for a kinkmeme prompt I can no longer find, so I hope the prompter manages to see it.

Clint is buried deep inside Phil. He rolls his hips in shallow, precise thrusts so that he brushes Phil's prostate with every stroke. Beneath Clint, Phil is a whimpering mess of need and want, and Clint feels a flush of pride at having reduced Phil to this. As far gone as Phil seems, he still manages to reach forward, grab Clint by his ass with strong, firm hands and pull him impossibly closer. A choked sound is wrenched from one or both of them, and being so very close to Phil, Clint feels the breath coaxed from Phil brush smoothly against his cheek. When one of Phil's fingers slips down low enough to tease at Clint's hole, he presses back into its questing exploration.

Clint nips at the juncture of Phil's neck, tasting the salty skin on his tongue. "Tease," his voice is breathy and low. Readjusting, he pushes his hips forward and Phil groans appreciatively, a pleased sound from deep within his chest, and his grip on Clint tightens. It makes Clint shiver. He runs baseball stats through his mind.

"How," Phil starts, trying to catch his breath, "how much do you think you could take?"

"What did you have in mind?" Clint asks, rubbing his cheek against Phil's neck and up to his cheek where Clint feels the sharp tickle of Phil's stubble. He presses a soft, playful kiss to Phil's nose.

"My hand. Do you think you could take my fist?" Phil pushes his finger in further and at the same time his body tightens around Clint. It makes Clint see bright flashes before his eyes and his nerve endings spark with pleasure up his spine. His toes curl. His breath catches.

"Fuck. Phil. You can't-" Clint trembles. "You bastard," he says, regaining his breath. "You can't say things like that. Fuck!"

"Is that a yes then, on trying?" Phil inquires as he lets his legs drop bonelessly to the mattress from where they pinned Clint to him.

"Yes. It's definitely a yes," Clint says. He pulls out of Phil slowly and flops down next to him on their bed. Propping himself up on his elbow, Clint lean over and nuzzles Phil's neck and the sweat-damp hair at its nape, trailing nips and licks as he goes. "Give me five and we can totally try that."

"I wasn't thinking of now," Phil says, smiling and tilting his head to capture Clint's lips in a quick kiss before pulling back and looking Clint square in the eyes. "If we're going to do it, I want to take my time and open you up nice and slowly." He strokes his hand down Clint's side, making Clint sigh and lean into the warm touch. "Make you beg for more even when you feel like you can't take any more."

"Oh, I know I can take it," Clint boasts. He feels like he's flushing slightly, but doesn't really care. The idea of having Phil fill him in that way is making his stomach flip excitedly and arousal wash over him like a tidal wave.

"Know it, do you?" 

"Okay, not know it, but I'm damn sure I can."

"Mmm," Phil hums. "We'll see, won't we? Come on, shower. I'm all sticky and you can help get me clean."

\---

Clint's spread out on the bed and he looks down at Phil who sits between his legs. One of Phil's hands strokes soothingly down Clint's left thigh as his other hand, slick with lubricant brushes against Clint's ass. The teasing touch makes Clint shiver with anticipation and need because he knows Phil is going to make him wait. Phil likes to tease him, the bastard.

"Phil," Clint grinds out irritably after what feels like an eternity of Phil skirting around absolutely everywhere Clint wants him to be. "Will you just get on with it already?"

"I want you to relax first," Phil tells Clint as he shifts onto his knees. The hand on Clint's thigh glides up to play with Clint's nipples, which is nice and makes Clint sigh in satisfaction, but it isn't what he _needs_. Still, he arches up into the touch.

"I'm not going to relax if you just keep teasing me," he complains, the last few words come out a breathy, heated sigh as Phil leans forward and slides a finger into him.

"So you think," Phil says, before he drops his head down far enough to press a kiss to Clint's mouth, teasing at his lips with teeth and tongue. Clint opens his mouth eagerly.

Another finger nudges against Clint's entrance before breaching him slowly. The stretch and slide is welcome and Clint groans as Phil pumps both fingers in and out of him at a leisurely pace that feels torturously slow and yet perfect at the same time. Phil twists his fingers and Clint feels himself start to relax. He caresses Phil's tongue with his own, putting as much of his need into it as he could muster. Clint presses down onto the fingers and it sends pleasurable frissons throughout his body.

Phil pulls back. Clint stretches up in vain to try and kiss him again. "But I know exactly what your body needs."

Clint sighs as Phil pushes deeper until he can feel the press of Phil's palm flush against him. Phil's fingers flex and stroke within Clint. They brush all of the places that made Clint's body sing.

Phil sits back on his heels, and Clint feels the loss of Phil's warmth and pressure over him for all of a couple of seconds before he's distracted by the slight, pleasurable burn as Phil pulls his hand back enough so he can add a third finger. Clint looks at Phil, and his expression is one of utmost concentration, as though Clint is the most precious thing in the world that one wrong move will break. Something burns in Clint's chest and he can't place if it's love or annoyance or a twisted shard of both piercing his heart. It's all far too serious. He nudges at Phil with his heel.

"Stop looking so serious. This is supposed to be fun."

"I don't want to hurt you," Phil says looking up at Clint. The steel blue gaze of his eyes softens to an extent that's never seen when Phil is on the job. Instead, they clearly show his love and Clint can't help but feel that flush of warmth through his chest again. 

"You won't hurt me," Clint implores, and pushes down onto Phil's fingers as far as he can, completely relishing the feeling of fullness. "It's not like I'm not used to having your fingers up my ass."

Phil nods and then smiles devilishly. "I know, and you take them so well."

"Exactly. So what's a few more?"

Phil reaches over to grab more lube and Clint feels the cool liquid against his skin as Phil squeezes out more so that he can add his pinky. It isn't really much extra, not with how Phil has twisted his fingers together, but there's still a moment where Clint's body protests what his mind wants all the same. It takes a moment for Clint's muscles relax enough for Phil to push his fingers inside fully. Slowly, so very slowly, after Clint feels the pressure ease off, Phil starts to move his fingers how he was before, stretching and probing. Even though Phil isn't trying to get Clint off, Clint knows the difference and knows that right now the last thing Phil wants is to make Clint come and have his muscles clamp down and tighten up again, it feels damn good.

"See, I told you," Clint says, his breathing is slightly labored and comes out in slight pants. "Nothing to it."  
"Do you honestly have no idea how tight you are?" Phil asks, a waver in his voice. "Because, fuck, Clint, I'm going to have to spend a while like this before you can take my thumb, let alone my hand."

Phil's movements within him become easier, but Clint has to admit that there's no way he's going to be able to take everything easily. He can feel the stretch of Phil's fingers opening up and spreading out before Phil starts to thrust his fingers in and out with shallow movements.

"Feels like you're doing fine so far," Clint moans, his feet scramble in the sheets to find purchase as he tries to grind down onto Phil and up into the air at the same time in a futile attempt to get friction against his aching cock. His hands drop down from where they were splayed in the pillow. One moves to wrap loosely around his cock, the other reaches out to touch Phil's arm. It's a gentle touch that appreciates the shift in the muscles of Phil's forearm as he manipulates his fingers deep within Clint's body. Clint trails his hand down Phil's arm until Clint can feel where Phil penetrates him. He enjoys just how stretched he is around Phil's fingers. "Feels like you're doing _really_ well."

"Want to feel just how much?" Phil inquires. Clint's pretty sure it's rhetorical until Phil, much to Clint's immense displeasure, pulls his fingers out. Before Clint can protest, Phil snags Clint's hand and squeezes out some lube onto Clint's fingers, guiding them towards his loosened hole. His mind catches up with Phil's thought process all at once and he easily slips two fingers inside himself. There's nothing he can do but marvel at just how loose he feels compared to normal. Even after Phil's fucked him he's normally tighter than this. Phil pushes two of his own fingers back in. "See, this I how tight you still are with four fingers."

Phil twines their fingers together, and starts to move them so that they can keep stretching Clint. Clint feels himself opening up further, their fingers working together to open him. He grips tightly at the base of his cock with his free hand and closes his eyes, tries to slow his breathing, his pulse. There's no way Clint's going to just let himself come now.

"Do you think that you can take another finger for me?"

Clint looks at him. The other man's eyes are half-lidded and he's breathing a lot harder than he was just minutes ago. There's a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, his skin is flushed and the sight goes straight to Clint's cock.

"Yes. And then you. Just you and your hand, please Phil? God, I can't wait to feel you," Clint babbles, because to be quite honest, this is starting to feel as teasing as before Phil even got a finger inside him.

Clint takes a deep breath. Phil works another finger in alongside their others. It isn't too bad. There's a little ache, but nothing he can't handle easily. When their fingers move again, Clint just wants more. The ache instead turns into one of emptiness and needing to be filled.

"Okay," Phil says, and his chest is heaving as much as Clint's. His erection is flushed and leaking pre-come. A small part of Clint considers begging for that instead, but it only lasts a fleeting moment before he remembers what he's going to be getting so very soon.

Phil pulls both of their hands away, and leans over Clint to kiss him again, trailing open-mouthed kisses down Clint's torso as he goes back to his task. When he stops at Clint's hip to suck a mark, Clint's hand relinquishes his cock. Instead, it finds its way to Phil's head holding it there and encouraging Phil to bite and suck for longer. The sharp tang of pain is a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure of Phil's probing fingers that are once again at his entrance. He move and grabs a pillow to prop Clint's hips up a bit, getting a better angle.

He eases in four fingers again, and Clint doesn't feel the stretch like he did before. Phil pulls back, just enough so that he can maneuver his thumb into position, the tip just brushing against Clint's ass.

"You're sure? Tell me at any point if you want to stop," Phil says.

Clint can't imagine ever wanting to stop, but nods and promises that he will anyway.

Phil presses forward, but stops before he gets too far. Clint suspects that it's because Phil's approaching the widest part of his hand. He can feel the difference. How the bones in Phil's hand won't giveaway to his body and instead it's his muscles that are going to have to be the ones to surrender.

Clint takes a deep breath, and hums in approval. "Go for it."

And Phil does.

The look on his face is pure unadulterated awe and pride as he works his hand further into Clint and Clint's body accepts. As soon as Phil's hand is past its widest, everything seems so much easier. Pressure he felt before is gone, and Phil stops again. Clint has a chance to catch his breath, suddenly realizing how he needs the little bit of time.

That's it. Phil's whole hand is inside him and fuck, he feels full. It's strange, and Clint's not quite sure how to handle it, because really there's no reason for Phil's hand to be there, be so far within him, other than the fact that they both _want_ it, and maybe that's enough. Still, as good as it all is, his body still wants to clench down and return to normal, only he can't because Phil's wrist is right _there_ , stopping it.

Phil's fingers shift inside him and it feels like normal, but different at the same time because they're deeper, so much deeper than they ever were in the past. When one of Phil's knuckles brushes against Clint's prostate, Clint can't help the hiss that escapes his mouth. As much as he wanted it, he never expected it to be so _good_.

"Is it, is it okay?" Phil asks, and he's stumbling over his words and Clint's never seen him like this, like Phil's having trouble restraining himself. Phil looks like he's about to fall apart from the pleasure of it all and Clint isn't even touching him.

"Phil," Clint manages to say. "Phil, you have no idea. Just come down here and kiss me or something."

Phil does. He leans down carefully, and kisses Clint open-mouthed and desperate. Their breath mingles together and Clint is overwhelmed by it all.

"Do you want me to move?" Phil asks as he pulls back enough to lean his forehead against Clint's. He's so close and everything is just perfect.

After a moment of holding Phil close, Clint finds himself nodding. Phil's hand curls inside him slowly and carefully until it makes a fist and the sensation is different again. Clint can feel knuckles everywhere, and they're pressing in all of the right places. Then Phil moves, pushing forwards with his arm until Clint finds himself wincing and before he can even voice that he thinks it's too much, Phil has stopped and is pulling back.

"No," Clint says. "You don't have to pull out. Just no more."

"Okay," Phil says reverently. "I didn't mean to push too far."

"You didn't, don't worry." Clint says and means it because even though there was a flash of pain, now there's nothing other than the delicious feeling of being gloriously full and he doesn't think he's ever been this close to another person in his entire life and not just on a physical level, because he's never been this open emotionally.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you realize just how much of my arm's inside you right now," Phil says, and he seems hesitant.

Clint knows his body's had to stretch again. He's definitely nowhere near Phil's wrist anymore, but when he looks down his body to where Phil's arm is disappearing inside of him, then Clint realizes just how much of Phil's forearm is inside him, and well, he didn't realize that it was even possible to fit that much inside a person. Seriously, where the hell is it fitting?

"Do you think I'm able to take enough then?" Clint asks, and he actually feels rather proud of himself. It seems a strange thing to be proud of, but his body is something he's been pretty proud of for years, so he guesses it's an extension of that.

That is, until Phil speaks.

"More than I ever thought you would. Fuck. Clint. You have no idea."

Or maybe, Clint thinks, his pride is actually just an extension of making Phil sound confused and pleased and reverent all at the same time. Clint doubts it happens often. It never has around him before.

Phil moves his arm in and out slowly. Clint's entire world narrows to the sensation. When Phil's hand reaches for his cock and strokes, Clint can't help but come. The pleasure builds to immense levels, and Clint whites out for a moment.

When he comes to, he realizes Phil's still inside of him. Only now Clint's muscles have clamped down and are holding Phil inside of him and it turns out that getting out is a lot more difficult than one would think. At least when you think about the amount of effort it took getting in, surely out should be simple? It isn't helping that Clint's not really alert enough to do much other than lie there and let his body relax as Phil pulls out.

Clint feels empty.

Phil snuggles up against Clint's side, and Clint can feel the heat and hardness of Phil's erection against him.

"Hey," Clint says. "Do you want a hand?" He gestures at Phil, but his movements are sluggish and Clint feels like he's struggling against everything to even move.

"No," Phil responds, and Clint can feel Phil smile from where his face is pressed against Clint's shoulder. "I'm good. Perfect. Thank you."

"I don't know why you're thanking me," Clint mutters sleepily and angles his head just enough to kiss Phil on the head. "You did all the work."

Phil sighs, but it's exaggerated and Clint knows he's not frustrated in the slightest. Clint watches through half-closed eyes as Phil gets to his feet.

"And I'll continue to do all of the work and clean us up."

When he comes back, Clint is just awake enough to feel the warm washcloth soothing over his body and the warm weight of Phil settling back next to him before he drifts off to sleep.


End file.
